It was an accident

Author's Note: story contains mentions of animal death.

“All you need to do is breathe.”

“I can’t breathe, Lexi. It’s not like this is a simple subject. It feels like everything is contracting, like there’s a stupid huge weight on my chest. You can’t possibly know what that means.”

Suddenly, it was like the walls of my small kitchen were starting to cave in, bubbling and shrinking, trying to squish me down to size. Suddenly, the coffee smelled burnt, adding to the dizziness.

“No. Unfortunately, I don’t know what it means. I don’t know why you’re in such a panic. Like I said, all you need to do is breathe.”

She clutched the chipped mug I handed her tightly, showing the white of her knuckles. She was trying to remain calm as she looked at me with disappointment, like she was trying to figure out a way around my current shitty predicament, even though there was no way around it.

Of course there wasn’t a way around it, because the predicament I had found myself in was that I had, subsequently and by accident, maybe killed my boyfriend’s mom’s dog while his family was on vacation in Italy.

It was an accident, I swear.

I swear it wasn’t my fault that I may have had my purse open with a box of chocolates gifted to me by my coworkers for my one-year anniversary, a way to say, “Hey, we didn’t scare you off. You passed all of our mental tests!” Unfortunately, this, the death of a dog, was not on the agenda.

It’s not my fault her dog is roughly larger than a guinea pig and I didn’t notice her shuffle her small body across the carpet and into my bag. It’s not my fault that she tipped the lid off the container and consumed not one, not two, but five pieces of candy and proceeded to throw up violently all over the carpet. It wasn’t my fault she became completely hyperactive and burst into seizures over the course of the next few days.

She was old. It was bound to happen eventually, right?

Her little heart was bound to stop eventually, right?

Lexi looked at me in shock. Of course, this sounded like I was crazy, like I was a complete and total sociopath who didn’t care that she killed her boyfriend’s mom’s dog.

By accident.

But…it was my fault.

I was the one who left my purse on the floor. I was the one who left it open. I was the one who came in drunk from brunch and just disregarded it. I was the one who stopped paying attention to little Miss Muffet. I was the one who let this happen.

I was the one who now wanted to Weekend at Bernie’s my boyfriend’s mom’s dog while they enjoyed the Tuscan countryside.

I had to figure out what to do with an animal’s corpse.

Wait! That’s it!

“I know that look,” Lexi said as I felt my brow raise. “No, don’t give me that look. That look means that you have a stupid idea coming to the forefront of your brain.”

“Weekend at Bernie’s.”

The idea slipped off my tongue before I could catch it, and judging by Lexi’s expression, I must have looked insane.

“How are you going to Weekend at Bernie’s a dog?”

Yeah, she’s unimpressed.

“Just admit you killed it, that it was an accident.”

“THAT DOESN’T MATTER.”

“It was an accident, and your childish tendencies are going to put you in a much deeper hole if you don’t rightfully admit your mistake.”

“I can’t do that!” I shrieked.

She looked taken aback.

“His mom hates me. No, she LOATHES me. Why would I want to admit I killed her dog? She’ll use that as an excuse to get rid of me.”

“So, you’re going to pretend the dog is alive? How? You going to dress her up in little outfits, parade her around like a marionette, take her on walks by dragging her on a leash through the borough? You already know the old lady on the corner is nosy and is very aware that the dog was alive this morning. But you know what? I hope you resort to something as ridiculous as that. I’d love to see the look on her face when she sees the lifeless animal dragging three feet behind.”

“That sounds ridiculous.” I choked out a laugh, but Lexi wasn’t laughing. She kept a straight expression. “Why would I walk the dead dog?”

“Exactly. Why would you walk the dead dog? The dead dog who is still, mind you, snuggled up in the corner.”

I paused, glancing into the living room. There in the corner was the small, white, fluffy dog. She looked so peaceful. Only if peaceful meant she was sleeping, still breathing, instead of lacking breath entirely.

We both jumped as my phone unexpectedly rang, my boyfriend’s name flashing across the screen. Lexi moved as the linoleum floor creaked under her weight.

Suddenly, the tightness in my chest worsened. I couldn’t swallow. My palms became clammy.

The sudden rush of water from the faucet heightened my awareness as the screen went black, and I found myself able to breathe...

For a total of two seconds.

“Looks like he’s being relentless. You’re lucky it’s not a FaceTime call,” she sneered, drying off the mug and placing it in the drying rack. “I’m going to head out and let you handle this.”

Her expression softened when she read the panic on my face.

“Just tell him the truth. It may cause a buffer for a while, but you’ll be honest. Don’t pull the Weekend at Bernie’s stunt. Don’t be ludicrous.”

“Right.”

My response was barely audible.

“Okay.” She tapped on the counter, the echo like a drum pounding in my ears. “I’m going to head out. When I close that door, I’m counting on you to make a smart, sensible decision and not an idiotic one out of panic.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll talk later.”

With that, the door slammed. Once again, the sound reverberated in my eardrums.

My phone rang again, his name glowing on the screen, taunting me.

“Hello.”

I finally answered. I could hear his voice on the other end, full of life and excitement, unlike the dog in the corner.

With one final glance at her lifeless body, I knew I was about to walk through a door or close it for good.

A weak smile played across my lips.

“Yeah, she’s sleeping. She’s fine.”